Cherry Bark & Almonds
by big tears
Summary: AU. What if, during Niles' divorce, Frasier wasn't able to commit perjury? Complete (I added some stuff to chapter 14)
1. Ethics

**A/N:** There's not much of a way to explain this. I suppose I was just in a really strange mood when I decided to think it up -- or perhaps half-asleep...

**Disclaimer:** Haha, like _I_ work on TV shows! 

_-=-_

_"And as a consequence I can see out of the gloom   
That I gathered about myself   
That I thought would flatter me   
What the hell was the matter with me"  
_

--Elvis Costello, When Green Eyes Turn Blue

Frasier Crane had an ethics monitor built into him when it came to telling the truth. It was especially sensitive when under pressure. The problem was, as hard as he might have tried to lie -- even when it was very important that succeeded -- a feeling of self-loathing and disgust settled into him. 

_It's despicable, what I'm doing,_ he would tell himself. _The law provides so many wonderful things for our community -- our country, even! -- and here I am, trying to defy it. I'm terrible. I'm a **criminal**, no better than a common burglar or murderer..._

When Geoff Whalen paced around the conference room, throwing out question after insane question, and then suddenly stopped... When he stopped and stared right through his victim, his sharp eyes dissecting and analyzing... Donny Douglass looked from his client's brother to his opponent with dread in the pit of his stomach.

"Dr. Crane, did your brother ever mention another woman?"

The answer came quickly: "Yes, but we both have female acquaintances and -- and friends, you know..."

"Did he ever mention his _interest_ in one of your 'female acquaintances' or 'friends'? Perhaps more than once?"

A beat. Donny looked at Frasier from the corner of his eye. Frasier swallowed.

"Er... yes."

"Anyone in particular? Miss Moon, for instance,"

The monitor nearly went off in the splitsecond Frasier took to utter the affirmative.

That was it. It was all over, and Maris had just won.

_-=-_


	2. Victimized

_-=-_

_"You can convince yourself of anything   
If you wish both hard and long   
And I believed that life was wonderful  
Right up to the moment when love went wrong"_

--Elvis Costello, Fallen

It was all over the society page, with an awful headline: NILES CRANE'S PASSION BRINGS DOWNFALL. The article detailed the incident: How Maris was driven to Schenkman by Niles' feelings for Daphne; the divorce; how everyone had found out about the whole fiasco; and a few fabricated comments from the "people invovled". 

Niles himself had been quoted as saying: "I'm just glad all of this crap is over." Which, of course, was not true. Firstly, because he wasn't happy that this had ended before he had a chance to fix it, and secondly because he would never use the word "crap" in front of people who could quote him.

But that wasn't the worst of it. What the people of the society page were saying about poor Daphne -- who had little more to do with this than any of the newspaper's editors -- the things they were insinuating, the phrases they casually wrote off as true rather than offensive, were absolutely apalling. For heaven's sake, the woman couldn't even go shopping at any of Frasier's stores without putting on some outlandish disguise! 

Niles sighed, staring down at the black ink on the grayish page, the headline branded on his eyelids. He desperately wished he could afford a piano to crawl under.

This thing, this entire monstrosity was his fault. If he hadn't been married, if he hadn't been so ready and willing to love outside of Maris, if he hadn't told Frasier... Maybe, if he hadn't been determined to make his union last past it's expiration date, he would have been rid of his ridiculous burden much sooner. Maybe he and Daphne would be together and living in a tasteful apartment, rather than him sitting alone in a dreadful one with bloodstains on the carpet and holes through the walls.

But he'd never know, would he? And all because he had been so... Stupid? Lust-driven? No. 

Weak.

Bending to Maris's will as though she were a goddess. He now knew why she had married him: it wasn't an act of love and devotion for her. It was being bonded to a slave.

_I feel like such a fool,_ he thought to himself, sighing. His surroundings didn't help to alleviate the frustration, either. He felt this staggering need to be with his family, who could support him and hopefully comfort him. Of course, he knew who else would be there, no doubt ducking when she walked by windows and hiding behind the door when she answered it. 

Then again, she might be out shopping. Or, if she was home, she might want to talk to him.

_Why should she want to talk to **me**? Even a greeting between us has become awkward and intense. Sometimes I swear I can hear the sound of her heart pounding in her chest I'm so overstrung..._

_But there's still a chance she might be out shopping..._

_-=-_


	3. Surprise, Surprise

**A/N:** TVStoryGirl538 wanted to know why I called this story "Cherry Bark & Almonds". Well, I was watching _To Tell The Truth_ on TV the other night, and when Niles said those four words... I nearly cried. To me, it's just moving.

_-=-_

_"I've written a note,  
it's pressed between pages that you've marked to find your way back.  
It says, "Does he ever get the girl?"  
But what if the pages stay pressed,   
the chapters unfinished,  
the storied too dull to unfold?  
Does he ever get the girl?"_

Dashboard Confessional, This Ruined Puzzle

Daphne wasn't expecting Dr. Crane's brother to show up. After all, they had managed to avoid each other thus far. Whenever anyone needed to speak with him, they called or went to his apartment. He hadn't come by in weeks now. 

Frankly, that relieved her. Her heart had caught in her throat when she had found out that he had been... in love with her for six years, and she found herself hyperventilating -- which only served to remind her of the man that was causing this nervous reaction. When she and her employer had returned home, she had turned on both he and his father.

"Both of you knew about this?" she said, her voice trembling slightly. _Six years..._

"Well, yeah, Daph." Mr. Crane had replied with a shrug. "It was kinda obvious -- whatever he came over for, he was always bug-eye focused on you."

"The two of you seemed to be throwing innuendo all over the place," the elder Dr. Crane commented. "And as unintentional as it may have been on your part, Niles has always ventured over in hopes of attending the recitation of one of your racier anecdotes."

She had falled down onto the suede sofa, completely overwhelmed at the situation. "How long?" she managed to ask.

"About six years,"

"Bloody hell."

And now, here she was: face-to-face with Dr. Niles Crane, praying that he wasn't here to see _her_... He wasn't looking very healthy. Very pale, the thin lines under his eyes made more pronounced by the black shadows beneath them. 

"Good afternoon, Dr. Crane," Daphne said, feigning her usual cheerful attitude. "Your brother's not here, if you're looking for him. Your father managed to drag him off to an action movie..."

"Oh, that's right," Dr. Crane said, frowning. "Arnold Schwarzenegger or Jean-Claude Van Damme... Frasier was complaining." He sighed -- a very deep and sorrowful sigh, it seemed to Daphne. "I'll just have to borrow the piano another time..."

He turned towards the elevator, but she felt inclined to invite him in, as uncomfortable as it would be. The two of them, alone... one in love with the other... But he was all alone nowadays, and he'd probably take comfort in playing a sad song or two on the piano.

"You can stay and play for a while, if you want," she said carefully, hesitantly... 

He turned back around and chuckled wryly. "Actually, I was going to sit under it," he said. "Sitting under the piano has always had the comfort of a security blanket or stuffed animal when times aren't particularly enjoyable. Thank you for the invitation, Daphne, but I believe you'd be more comfortable if I were at home."

He resumed waiting for the elevator once again, and something about the sight of him made Daphne want to cry. He had been in love with her for six years -- the part of his day he most looked forward to being the time in which he spoke to her -- and she was just going to let him drive his bloody hatchback to his God-forsaken "home" and rot in loneliness?

...Well, that was a bit overdramatic, but she could at least offer him a cup of tea. She didn't have to _talk_ to him...

"Dr. Crane," she said, and he turned just as the elevator doors began to open. "Would you like to stay for tea, or sherry, or... hot chocolate?"

"I'd love to, Daphne, but I really think -- "

"Dr. Crane, if you don't get into the kitchen this instant and join me in a drink, I'm afraid I'll have to resort to brute force."

Dr. Crane laughed, smiling at her. "I suppose I'd better come in then," he replied, sounding as though everything else in the world had become less important. "I wouldn't want you to strain yourself..."

_-=-_


	4. Tea

_-=-_

_"I sink like a stone that's been thrown in the ocean  
My logic has drowned in a sea of emotion  
Stop before you start  
Be still my beating heart"_

--Sting, Be Still My Beating Heart

Niles knew she was only trying to be nice. He knew that she didn't want him to go home and have to sit by himself, and that was why he came in. She _could_ have let him leave -- heaven knew that she had plenty of reason to be uneasy in his presence -- but she invited him inside for a drink, all of _her_ worries thrown behind her in an attempt to make someone else's life better. It was typical Daphne.

And one of the many reasons why he loved her.

She pleasantly lead him into the kitchen where she proceeded to make their tea, although her entertaining chatter was absent today. He supposed she had reason for that, too... but he wasn't extremely disappointed. He liked watching her as much as listening to her; all grace and fluidity as she went about her various jobs, her lips turning up into a beautiful smile when she'd accomplished something particularly unnerving...

When the tea was ready, she handed him his cup and saucer, ushering him to the dining room table. She took a seat across from him.

Niles wasn't expecting conversation, but Daphne spoke. 

"So... six years?"

His heart skipped a beat, and he looked up from his tea to see her staring at him, a casual sort of tone to her voice. 

"Er... yes."

She nodded, and then turned her head back to her drink, a few strands of hair falling into her face. His heart sped up and he had trouble swallowing when he saw this... he was overwhelmed with a sudden need to smell her hair. _Cherry bark and almonds... peach blossoms, lavender and vanilla. _

She started the next bit very slowly, "Your... your brother said that you know quite a bit about me." She carefully raised her eyes. She looked so meek, glancing up at him with nervous anticipation in her eyes.

"Only what I could gather for myself," he replied, his voice shaking horribly. This was not going very smoothly...

Daphne drew a breath, took a sip of tea, and then continued the conversation. Niles could tell it was not one she wished to be having, but there was an echo of resolution in her eyes. He expected she wanted to know how he had gone about loving her from behind. Now that he was next to her, she probably thought him ridiculous.

"Your father also mentioned that you had a habit of... of smelling my hair,"

He eyed the piano as his spine straightened -- something that always seemed to happen when he was about to begin hyperventilating or having a panic attack. 

"Yes."

"How on earth did you manage it? I don't believe I ever caught you..."

_Piano... piano, piano...._ "Well, -- er... I mostly did it whilst you were in the process of turning around... And you nearly caught me, once. The -- the first time."

His lungs were burning, and Daphne's eyes were widening. He didn't want this to be happening. This wasn't the way things were meant to _work_....

"Dr. Crane, are you alright?" Her voice soft with concern, her eyebrows raised in alarm... It was barely a second before she was by his side, helping him hold his head between his knees and insisting that everything would be fine.

When they had slowed his breathing and he was able to sit upright, she went to get him a glass of water. And, absolutely exhausted and terrified, he went to the piano. 

_-=-_


	5. Under the Piano

**A/N:** Thanks to Michelle Cushley and The Frasier Files for the ability to access _The Crucible_. Also, thanks to all reviewers. You guys are great!

_-=-_

_In the Kitchen, Daphne is bent over, taking a tray out of the oven. Niles sidles in, apparently innocently._

**Niles:** Oh, Daphne, you're here, too.  
**Daphne:** My goodness, Dr. Crane - shouldn't you be out there mixing?  
**Niles:** Oh, don't mind me. I'm just getting some ice. [puts the ice to his forehead]  
**Daphne:** Lovely party, isn't it?  
**Niles:** Yes, it is.  
**Daphne:** [chopping herbs] Look at this, fresh fennel. [picks up a piece and sniffs it] Smells wonderful, doesn't it?  
**Niles:** [smelling Daphne's hair instead] It certainly does.  
**Daphne:** [catching Niles] Dr. Crane, were you sniffing my hair?  
**Niles:** Why would I do a thing like that? I'm a happily married man - I love my Maris.  
**Guest:** [entering kitchen] Where should I put this coat?  
**Niles:** Just throw it on the bed.

  


Daphne found Dr. Crane lying on his back under the piano, his hands trembling as they rested over his eyes. For a moment she just watched him: His chest rising and falling quickly, a muscle in his cheek twitching. She tried to imagine him as a little boy hiding under the piano at home and worrying about a bully at school or having to go to Little League. It was very easy to see, much to her surprise. She could see a small, frail little boy with neatly combed blonde hair and fair skin huddled under a beautiful oak piano, his knees drawn up to his chin.

With glass of water in hand, she got down and joined him. 

"Dr. Crane," she said quietly, not wanting to frighten him. Despite her quiet tone, he jolted up and bumped his head on the top of the piano. He muttered a few obscenities and rubbed the area on his skull that had been injured, and then he noticed Daphne.

"Dr. Crane, I've brought you some water," she said, showing him the glass. When he didn't say anything, she continued. "...Are you feeling alright? I'm sorry if I frightened you,"

He took the water with whispered thanks, and drank it all in one breath. "I'm sorry, Daphne," he said, setting the empty glass down on the outskirts of the shadow the two of them were hiding under. "I suppose I'm just a bit on edge."

"It's not because of me, is it?"

That was an answer within a question, she realized. Of course it was her that had driven him to this sort of anxiety. He knew that she knew, and that was probably horrible for him. If it were her, she'd feel a bit of an idiot in that person's company. Not that Dr. Crane was an idiot, but there was a very good chance he felt like one. And then she had brought up the hair-smelling...

She really needed to learn a bit more tact, she decided. If it were her who had smelled _his_ hair, she certainly wouldn't like to talk about it. In fact, she was amazed he hadn't blushed at the statement she had made. She was also amazed the expression in his eyes hadn't changed from horrified to homicidal when she had mentioned his father let the cat out of the bag concerning that bit of information.

Something else hit her then, too: She was under the piano with him. She had invaded his personal space... Snatched his teddy away, cuddled up under _his_ security blanket. _I'm such an idiot,_ she thought, closing her eyes. _Here I am, in Dr. Crane's place of comfort when he most likely wants to be left alone. I suppose the only thing to do now is excuse myself..._

"I'll just be going now," she said, feeling unbelievably awkward. She could feel her face turning red as she turned to exit the area beneath the piano...

And then she felt something else. Dr. Crane's hand closed around her own, and when she looked back at him his expression was so despairing and unwell she nearly went to hug him -- but knowing how inappropriate that would be, she settled for giving his hand a small squeeze.

"I'm sorry," he said again, slowly letting go of her hand and running a hand through his hair. He then pulled the old trick of casually glancing at his watch, feigning shock, and announcing that he really had to be going. 

Daphne didn't mind that he left. After all, he had every reason to be uncomfortable in her presence. He was in love with her and she thought of him as a friend... If it were her, she'd be awfully embarrassed...

Then again, Dr. Crane was also much braver than she was. If she were in his position, she'd set up camp in her bedroom with chocolates and depressing movies. And she'd never leave. Except for more chocolates.

Maybe he had a reason to come over. Maybe he'd run out of sherry and didn't have quite enough money for another bottle, so he'd come to borrow some. But then, wouldn't he have said so?

Maybe he _had_ come to see her. Maybe seeing her was his equivalent of a sad movie.

_-=-_


	6. Indulgence

_-=-_

_"Maybe I'd be better on my own  
No one ever seems to understand me  
It's easier for me to be alone  
But there's still a piece of me that feels so empty"_

Michelle Branch, Where Are You Now?

  


Niles arrived back at his apartment with two conflicting emotions having a battle in his head. One on hand, He was almost too depressed for words. Daphne -- beautiful, wonderful, perfect Daphne -- had once again made him feel as though his life should be over. She knew, and yet he still couldn't have her because she didn't feel the same. 

He was her Friend.

That part of him wanted to turn one of his Armani ties into a noose and hang himself. But the other emotion...

She had been under the piano with him.

Frasier called later that evening to complain about the movie. "Honestly, Niles," he said in exasperation. "the whole thing was about army officers getting blown up. Plotless! I don't know how I let myself stay throughout the whole blasted thing,"

"I'm sorry, Frasier," Niles had said, his mind somewhere else entirely. 

"Anyway, how was your day? Did you have any patients?"

"No, actually," he said. "but, I did stay at your place and talk to Daphne for a short while."

The voice on the other line suddenly sounded slightly perturbed. "Yes, she mentioned that. I thought the both of us agreed you and Daphne should try and avoid each other at all costs...?"

"Frasier, she was with me under the piano." These words, while brimming with meaning to Niles, only served to confuse his brother.

"I'm afraid I'm not following, Niles,"

How should he put this? No one -- not even his mother -- had ever joined him when he was safely tucked under the piano. They had all tried to bribe and coax him back into standing position, yes, but they had never thought to get down on their knees and... and sit with him. To wait things out with him until he was feeling that his legs would hold him again. It had always bothered him slightly. People all have their little safety precautions, and while everyone else went along with theirs -- Frasier not daring to let anyone close to him; Mom throwing food out after a day or two so that no one would get food poisoning; Dad washing his hair as often as possible so that he wouldn't get lice -- they all seemed to want him to "Stop being ridiculous and come out from under that stinkin' piano!" (a direct quote from his father).

No one had ever indulged him. 

"It's not important, " he said, sighing. "If I come up with the words, I'll explain it to you later."

"Are you sure? My brotherly instincts are telling me that this is much more than you're letting on..." Once again, Frasier feeling the need to be clued in on everything. It was almost amusing.

"I'm sure. Now, you get to bed and attempt to rid your subconscious of the vision of soldier innards. Goodnight, Frasier,"

"Goodnight, Niles,"

Niles hung up the phone with yet another sigh. His mind was still on Daphne, and the look on her face when he had taken her hand in his... She didn't know that moment meant more to him than any he had ever experienced. In those few seconds, his soul had been at her fingertips, and she didn't turn away. She held him in her grip for ten to fifteen seconds, and he was positive his life had been altered. Every meeting he had with Daphne Moon altered him in some way.

Another reason for his love. 

He had considered returning and letting her know how much she affected him. However, consideration was all it turned out to be. He cherished the mental image of her answering the door and inviting him in once again, his nervousness as he explained everything. He imagined being able to love her the same way he always had, but with her returning the feeling.

_But it's just a fantasy..._

He stared blankly at his ten-inch TV/VCR, and a few tapes he had rented from the local library. Without much enthusiasm, he put on an episode of _This Old House_ and began to take notes. Dr. Niles Crane couldn't live in a place like the Shangri-La without fixing it up a bit, and in the meantime he might as well be learning the names of all the tools and how they were used.

_-=-_


	7. Visions of Niles

_-=-_

_"I was watching PBS the other night in my study and they were showing this documentary on the Great Depression. Vintage Steinbeck - desperately poor people escaping The Dust Bowl, their meager possessions strapped to rickety old trucks heading to what they thought was their salvation. Then there was this scene with this scruffy boy being handed a brand-new pair of shoes by the Salvation Army. Frasier, if you saw the look on that boy's face. It was a look of pure and utter happiness. I have never experienced that kind of happiness, not in my whole life."_

David Hyde Pierce as Niles Crane, My Coffee With Niles

  


Daphne seemed to be having a very hard time of getting to sleep. Every single time she closed her eyes, they just snapped open again -- and when she managed to keep them shut long enough, a very interesting image came into her head: The younger Dr. Crane.  
That was puzzling. Of course, she had been thinking about him more and more often, but she assumed that was because of his attraction to her... and his face had never shown itself in the late hours of the night.

At least, not that she could recall...

She sighed and rolled over, trying several different positions before finally deciding to go fix herself some hot chocolate. Amazingly enough, when she left her bed, Dr. Crane seemed to follow her.

When she reached the kitchen and began to set up the hot chocolate things, something very odd began to happen. Every single time she turned around, or when she was facing the small island in the kitchen, she could feel someone leaning over her and carefully smelling her hair. She would, of course, turn around very quickly... but no one would be there. It continued until she brought her mug to the table and sat down, but then...

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Dr. Niles Crane, in crisp three-piece-suit, was standing before her with a matching drink and an inquizitive look on his face.

Daphne looked from her hot chocolate to Dr. Crane, and then discreetly pinched herself. She wondered if seeing and hearing people was possible if one was very tired.

"Go ahead," she said weakly. 

He did. First taking out that familiar white handkerchief and wiping down his chair, then slowly sitting down and setting his mug on the table. He smiled. 

"So," he said. "How are you, Daphne?"

_Apparently insane,_ she thought.

"You're not insane," Dr. Crane said with an amused laugh. "The thing is, your subconscious is bringing up images like this one" -- he gestured to himself -- "because you're thinking of me."

"I'm thinking of you?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "I just thought _you_ wouldn't leave,"

He smiled again. "I'll leave whenever you want me to," he said. "But I just want to say that I think you're conjuring up all these pictures and memories of me because you want to ask me something. Or some _things_ -- however you want to put it. You noticed me smelling your hair earlier... Could it be something to do with that?"

"Well, I don't know," Daphne said, furrowing her eyebrows. "I mean, it's a very strange thing to find out that one of your very good friends has been in love with you for six years, and you didn't even notice. All these questions come up -- like When did it start? or How did it start? It even makes a person wonder if there weren't instances where you mistook something they were saying... For example, every single time you ever said 'I love you'..."

Dr. Crane's mouth became a very thin line, and his eyes seemed to darken. "I meant it," he said quietly. 

"Oh, _hell_," she muttered. "...There are just some things that I want to know about... this. I won't ever find out if I don't ask you, but I'm sure you can understand why I'm slow to do that after I mentioned you smelling my hair..."

"Maybe you should go talk to me," he replied.

"I _am_ talking to... oh. Do you think you're awake?"

"I'm fairly sure,"

The car drive to the Shangri-La was a very nervous one. Daphne hadn't bothered to get dressed properly, and she was rather afraid of showing up at Dr. Crane's house in her pajamas... But the Dr. Crane sitting in the front seat of her car assured her that everything would be absolutely fine. 

"I'll be delighted to see you," he said.

When Daphne reached the door to his room, she took a very deep breath. _I'm going to be fine,_ she told herself. _Absolutely fine. Dr. Crane will be delighted to see me, I'll get my questions answered, and then I'll be on my way._

She knocked. A few seconds later, a very awake Dr. Crane answered the door, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised.

"Daphne..." he said quietly. "Shouldn't you be asleep? It's very late,"

She took another deep breath, and held it slightly longer than usual. Another caring statement from Dr. Crane. It was very near to being heartwrenching.

"I would be asleep," she replied. "but I'm afraid I have a few thoughts plaguing me, and you're really the only person who can help me get rid of them."

Her nerves died down slightly when he invited her in. _It'll be fine,_ she told herself again. _Dr. Crane's my friend. I'll be out of here in no time..._

Things are rarely that easy.

_-=-_


	8. Late in the Evening

_-=-_

_"Come on now, don't you want to see   
This thing that's happening to me   
Like Moses had power over sea   
So you've got power over me"_

Coldplay, Moses

  


Bob Vila didn't prove to be an adequate distraction for Niles. He ended up turning the tape off after barely ten minutes, and tried to content himself with attempting to decipher phrases in his notes, such as "Clip wire X, take pole A and insert into slot L" or "Righty tighty, lefty loosey". 

Try as he might, he couldn't comprehend them, or anything else that sat on the top sheet of his legal pad. Daphne eased back into his train of thought.

This, of course, was not a surprise to him. She had been occupying his thoughts during his free time from the day they met to the one he was living. No mater what he was doing or who he was talking to, she was always at the back of his mind recalling some incident from her teenage years as she folded the laundry. He was being smitten with the tale of how Nigel and Simon had once filled the bathtub to the brim, and all the water leaked through the floorboard into Billy's room. Billy of course, had thrown a bit of a diva fit, because he was that way when it came to his personal space and his clothing... And then there was a knock at the door.

It was her.

At first, Niles couldn't believe it -- his English Angel standing in front of him in her pajamas, her eyes simply begging that he invite her in and agree to speak with her. 

With Daphne pleading, how could he say no? How could he _ever_ say no?

..._Did_ he ever say no?

She came in and sat on the sofa, looking uncharacteristically high-strung. Whether it be fingers or feet, part of her always seemed to be moving. Squirming. Fidgeting. "I really hate to bother you," she said. "Especially so late at night but... Y -- someone told me that I should come and speak with you."

_Frasier,_ Niles thought. But then, he was positive his brother would use his psychiatric abilities to help Daphne the best way he could. She was like family to Frasier and to Dad. And to Niles she was... Perfect.

"Well, it's not as though I was doing something of extreme importance," he replied. _Why listen to the Daphne in my head when I could be conversing with the real one?_ "Now, what is it you wanted to talk about?" He knew what she wanted to talk about, but he figured he had better get her started. No need stammering through a subject they were both at least somewhat familiar with.

She looked at him as if to say _Here it goes..._ "Dr. Crane... I want to know when it started." She made a face that reminded Niles of the one he had made after Frasier and he had first gone to watch their father shoot a gun. He had been so afraid of a ricochet...

And what was he to say? "Oh, well I'd say since the moment I met you, but that would seem shallow, and I'd like to put my best appearance forward."? Somehow, he thought not. Answering questions was supposed to be easy... Then again, this was Daphne he was answering. He had to be very careful with what he said -- one word out of place and she could end up never wanting to look at him again...

"Well," he said. "Assuming that you want at least a small amount of detail to my answer... It was the day Frasier had Martha Paxton over for dinner. Before that, I was entranced -- but not in love." He sighed, remembering the night. "You were standing with a group of people explaining your theory on death: 'Well, my theory on death is: first you're whisked down a long dark tunnel towards a beautiful white light; you suddenly get all the jokes you never got before, you let out a little chuckle, and then you die!' "

He smiled. He had never heard anyone that thought like that before -- everyone _he_ knew, the well-bred and educated, thought death was a disturbingly serious matter. And then this simple, everyday -- and yet complicated and extraordinary -- girl thought it was just another obstacle to go through.

It had always made Niles want to ask her if she believed in heaven...

"So, all this time..." she said, her voice very low. "All the mistaken wording, all the -- everything..."

"Yes," Yes, and I'm so sorry I wasn't ever brave enough to tell you. Yes, and I feel awful that you found out the way you did. Yes, and I still lie awake at night, thinking of nothing but you...

She sighed -- an ethereal sound that filled Niles with excessive amounts of giddiness. He wished she were sitting next to him so that he could lean over, very slowly, and catch even the slightest puff of her otherworldly fragrance... And he wished she returned his feelings. He prayed that one day he'd wake up with a wedding band on his finger and Daphne in the kitchen making breakfast.

Every night he went to bed hopeful...

"Well then, I suppose I just have one more question for you, Dr. Crane," she said, taking a very deep breath.

"Go right ahead,"

She giggled -- Niles becoming more intoxicated with every sound she emitted. "This is going to sound ridiculous," she laughed. "But... what does my hair smell like?"

_-=-_


	9. The Science of Daphne

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews, everyone. They really mean a lot. This chapter dedicated to Amy and Washu, who both write fabulous Niles-characteristics.

_-=-_

_"I still want you by my side  
Just to help me dry the tears that I've cried..."_

Rod Stewart, The First Cut is the Deepest

  


It _was_ a silly question, in his defense. How did anyone's hair smell? What would make it any easier for him to describe hers? ...Maybe because he'd spent six years learning? Maybe because he seemed to know everything about her?

Other men Daphne had dated... men that were no longer apart of her life had always commented that she smelled nice. They never elaborated. Just letting her know... Maybe Dr. Crane -- the only man to stay in her life for such a long time besides both of their fathers and brothers -- had managed to work it out. 

He sighed, looking thoughtful. "Daphne's hair," he said quietly. He inhaled deeply through his nose, as though she were right in front of him, sighed again, and then spoke: "Most commonly," he began, still very quiet. "Your hair smells like peach blossoms, lavender and vanilla..."

She listened, very carefully, as he explained to her exactly how she smelled for certain events. On First Dates she was strawberries; when Out With Friends she was a combination of rosebuds and Johnson & Johnson baby powder; Special Occasions With Family brought about cloves and cinnamon; and Special Occasions were cherry bark and almonds... But the thing each scent had in common was the familiar lace of Calvin Klein's perfume _Obsession_.

God, he had her down to a science... Everything about her carefully explained and situated so that she made absolute and perfect sense. She could see it in her head -- Dr. Crane walking into a large filing room and reading through stacks upon stacks of notes all about her...

And somehow, she didn't mind.

He concluded his informed breakdown of The Way Daphne Smells, his scholarly and experienced tone giving Daphne a very good idea of what he was like back at school. She vaguely wondered how it would have been to meet him back then. To see a young, slightly more neurotic Niles Crane in a heated discussion -- the subject being something terribly controversial in the psychiatric world. 

He would be leaning on the table, blonde hair falling out of place, his pinstriped shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tasteful necktie hanging loosely over his shoulders. Whoever was sitting at the end of that table would obviously be intimidated -- you weren't to get into an argument with a person as stubborn (and ninety-percent-correct) as Niles Crane...

"Daphne?" 

She looked up, a bit startled to find Dr. Crane sitting right next to her and looking very concerned. His eyes... his very wide, very blue, staggeringly lovely eyes were upon her, staring her down... His fingers were lightly brushing her shoulder.

"Daphne, are you alright?"

No, Dr. Crane. I'm afraid that you're making me very nervous, with your bloody eyes and your bloody hands... "Yes," she lied, feeling incredibly stupid. "I... I guess I lost my train of thought..."

He looked down at the floor and said "I know exactly what you mean,"

Daphne blinked, trying to get the vision of school-age Dr. Crane out of her head. It didn't leave. It merely joined in with all her memories of her employer's brother, taking up space in her head and possibly interfering with any dreams she might have in the near future.

No. Dreams she _wouldn't_ be having in the near future. She would not be dreaming about Dr. Crane -- not only was it improper, but strange and ... and she had a feeling she might enjoy seeing those eyes in her sleep. But of course, that wasn't going to happen, because she wasn't going to be dreaming about him. Ever.

Who was she kidding? She was inches away from dreaming of him now.

He stood up, brushing off his trousers and looking down at her. "Are you sure there's nothing else I can answer for you?"

No, Dr. Crane. I need to know why you had to pick me, of all people, to fall in love with. I need to know why your eyes have to be so bloody blue. I need to know why...

"Yes, I'm sure. And I really appreciate that you were willing to let me in at such a late hour,"

"For you, Daphne, no hour is too unseemly -- nor is any day too busy."

Yes, I know.

She saw the look in those eyes as she stood and bid him goodbye -- his desperate petition for her to stay with him for just a moment longer, the silent voice of his need for her. And as much as it touched her, she didn't allow herself to stay. Perhaps because she was afraid of what would happen.

...Perhaps because she was afraid of what wouldn't.

Nonetheless, Daphne left the Shangri-La apartment complex with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, and a dull ache under her ribs. She realized why he had always seemed to look so forlorn.

Every time she left him his poor heart broke. 

_-=-_


	10. Keys

_-=-_

_"Loving you  
Like I never have before.  
And needing you.  
Just to open up that door.  
And begging you.  
Might somehow turn the tides.  
And tell me to  
I've gotta get his off my mind."_

Hanson, Save Me

  


Niles stood facing his door for several minutes, trying to register in his brain what had just happened. Daphne had been here. At his apartment. In her pajamas. At -- he glanced at his watch -- 1:00am. On some level, he could dance and announce that one of his fondest dreams had come true... Except now she was gone.

Again.

He sighed as he fell back onto the sofa, suddenly thinking of marvelously worded scenarios in which Daphne was still with him and he was a bit more courageous. He always thought of these things after seeing her, because when she was in the same room as he was, his mind could only focus on one thing. 

And yes, there _was_ a difference between focusing on her when she was there and focusing on her when she wasn't.

He calmly watched the Niles and Daphne in his head close in for a kiss -- this was the best part, you know -- but they were interrupted. By a knock on the door...

He stood up very quickly, nearly causing himself to black out, and rushed to the door. _Please, God,_ he prayed. _please let it be her..._

He opened the door.

"Dr. Crane," Daphne said, blushing slightly. "I seem to have locked my keys in my car... would it trouble you to give me a ride home?"

_-=-_

Niles Crane was feeling very carefree. So what if he drove a hatchback? So what if his life was very near to Hell for him? Not only had God blessed him with a divorce, but Daphne... and Daphne locking her keys in her car. He was driving her home -- and though it was not a relatively long trip, it was much better than nothing.

He knew, because he had nothing once.

"It's really not like me," she said, staring out the window at the rainy streets of Seattle. "being so forgetful with my keys... Sometimes I'd swear I'm loosing my mind,"

"You're not loosing your mind," he interjected. Their drive being paused by a stoplight, he had time to steal a brief glance of her as he spoke. "Perhaps you were supposed to lock your keys out there."

"You believe in destiny, don't you?" she asked, her focus still on the scenery she must have viewed one-thousand times by now. He didn't know it, but she was smiling.

"...Sometimes, yes."

The hatchback had resumed its motion, ambling down the road while Niles and Daphne sat in silence. He made sure to drive at the slowest possible speed until they reached Elliot Bay Towers.

"Is it alright if I walk you up?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, Dr. Crane," she said, chuckling. 

"I hate to sound even the smallest bit chauvanistic," his tone became very serious. "but you never know who is lurking in the shadows of places like this. It could be dangerous,"

Indeed, it could have been. As the two of them rode up the elevator, the small speaker up in the corner began playing a jazzy lounge number. Daphne turned to him and smiled.

"I love this song," she said, sighing. "Burt Bacharach's _The Look of Love_... Would you dance with me, Dr. Crane? Just until we reach our floor?"

Did he ever say no?

"Alright, but don't get any ideas,"

And so they danced. And -- although Niles had feared it -- the cord holding up the elevator did not snap, and they were not thrown to their doom... or extreme amount of injury. They reached her floor safely, the two of them dancing over to Frasier's door, and then stopping to laugh for a minute.

"Thank you, Daphne," he said with a smile. "for the most fun I've had in a very long time..."

"And thank _you_ for driving me home," she said. "I'm very glad we didn't run into any mysterious gents hiding in the shadows,"

They said their goodnights, and Niles turned for the elevator expecting to hear the sound of a door closing... But instead, he heard:

"Oh, damn."

He turned back around and found Daphne struggling with the doorknob. "Daphne," he said, approaching her yet again. "Is your house key with your car keys?"

"Yes," she muttered, releasing the handle and falling back against the wall. "Oh, I just feel so stupid..."

She sat down on the floor and, somewhat precariously, Niles followed. "Is there any chance of Dad or Frasier being able to hear the doorbell?" he asked.

"No... You're father sleeps like a log and your brother wears those sound-proof earplugs..."

It was very quiet. She would sigh, and then he would sigh... 

"I'll stay here with you," he said. 

"Dr. Crane..."

"Daphne, I highly doubt I'll ever have the opportunity to do this for you again, so please... Just let me stay with you."

In the morning, Dr. Frasier Crane would go out to get his paper only to find his younger brother and his father's physical therapist asleep in the hall. He would notice that Daphne was in her pajamas and Niles was not, and he would notice that the two of them were holding hands in their sleep.

Frasier was not the sort of person to ruin a moment like this. And so, he would inform his dad -- who, in turn, would go out and smile down at the two of them -- drink his coffee, and read his paper.

It was possibly the nicest thing he could do for Niles.

_-=-_


	11. Staying Still

**A/N:** Thanks again for all the reviews... I'm just not sure what to say to all your compliments. ^_^

_-=-_

_"You're painted on my heart, darling  
Stuck to my thoughts with passion's paste  
And though I love you so, darling  
My brain is sure this love's a waste"_

  


Daphne was awake, but did not open her eyes. She could tell it was morning, because she had that distinct feeling that one got in the morning. The one where you knew you were supposed to be up and doing things, but you weren't, so the guilty feeling in your subconscious woke you up and you just stayed in bed until the last possible moment...

It was a Friday, and it felt like 9:26am, perhaps. She was supposed to be starting on the laundry right now, but she didn't really want to. She didn't really _feel_ like doing anything, which was a first for her. There had, of course, been days when she wanted to procrastinate, but never days when she didn't want to do anything at all. She wondered why that was, and let out a yawn. Then, deciding that she might as well get up now, she opened her eyes.

And saw Dr. Crane.

She didn't move, and -- thinking quickly, as she always tried to -- assessed the situation. Her head was on Dr. Crane's chest, and his arm around her waist. For a moment, she panicked, terrified of what might have transpired... and then she remembered. She remembered her keys being in her car and Dr. Crane driving her home. She remembered him dancing with her, and staying with her when she realized she was locked out...

She glanced up at him, being careful not to move too much in case he was still sleeping. That was the appearance he gave -- deep and peaceful sleep. Those eyes of his closed and his breathing slow and steady... Daphne was going to try and get up without waking him, and she carefully began to sidle away... but then:

"Please stay,"

She tilted her head around to look at Dr. Crane again, and found that his eyes were still closed, but his lips were bent down into a grimace. 

"I know you have things to do," he said. "and I know this is probably very uncomfortable... I just need to live this moment a bit longer, is all..."

She drew a breath and held it... and the slow rhythm of his heartbeat paused as well. He was so calm, quiet, and subtley charming... His gentle intonations and and almost child-like hope -- she didn't want to see the look he had in his eyes last night ever again. As she stared up at him, her breath eased back, and his heartbeat did the same. 

"Alright, Dr. Crane. I'll stay..."

Anything to make you happy for a few moments longer.

She relaxed slightly, focusing on the soft thumping from his chest. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat.

"In my dreams," he said, sounding as though he were lost in one at the moment, "we spend most of our free time just like this. Sometimes on a lawn, sometimes on the sofa... but wherever it is, this is the exact position we're in."

That sounds lovely...

"And sometimes I read to you," he continued. "poetry and things. It's a very nice thing to imagine when I'm feeling particularly down."

I really must ask you to read to me sometime. I'll bet you'll tell marvelous stories to your children...

There were a few minutes of absolute silence, the two of them just breathing and being. And contrary to what Dr. Crane had said, this was not awkward for Daphne. She felt as comfortable as she might be by herself. Dr. Crane didn't feel exactly like Dr. Crane anymore...

The door to the other Dr. Crane's apartment opened, and Mr. Crane stepped out with a small grin on his face. 

"Hey, Daph," he said cheerfully. "Hey, Niles. I hope you don't mind me interrupting, but I though it might be time for one of you to get started with work..."

Daphne sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Alright, alright..." she muttered. "I'm up, old man..."

And with that, she went inside to have a quick shower and get started with her work.

_-=-_

"So..."

Niles opened one eye and looked up at his dad. "So, what?"

"So... That looked like fun,"

"Not so much fun as... well... in reality it was something for my fantasies to use as building blocks. But it felt somehow fulfilling,"

"That's 'cause you're in love, son."

"I know..."

He did know. He had known for six beautifully tortured years, and yet nothing ever seemed to change. In the end, she always left. Always.

"Niles... I really hate to bother you about this," Martin Crane said, sighing. "but did you ever think you should just... I dunno... Tell her, and kiss her hard on the mouth?"

"..._What_?"

"Worked in old movies, is all I'm saying."

"Dad," Niles said. "I appreciate your advice, but this is Daphne. She isn't some Scarlett O'Hara or Jane Eyre... she isn't the type to fall head-over-heels because of some groundbreaking kiss."

Martin laughed. "I guess you're right," he said with another smile. "but You've tried nearly everything else, haven't you? You've tried being gentlemanly. Maybe she's already nuts for you, but she just needs a smack in the face to get her to realize it..."

_Maybe_, Niles thought. _Maybe..._

_-=-_


	12. I Think We're Alone Now

**A/N:** Just the epilogue left... Thanks, once again, for all the fabulous reviews.

_-=-_

_"With an emotional crash, he realized what he had just done, what he had just said... Horrified, he looked at her with wide eyes that begged her to forget his last statement. But she wouldn't. And neither would he."_

  


Weeks passed, and yet Niles did not take his father's advice. Reasoning had a lot to do with it... after all, she had seen him at his several of his weak points now. Under the piano, explaining her hair, holding her in his arms -- she didn't need to see him as desperate as well as obsessive and miserable, did she?

Of course, he _was_ desperate... But that wasn't the point.

Anyway, very slowly, Niles had started to regain some of his patients: A few women who were sympathetic, and thought it was charming he hadn't wilted under the temptation to have an affair; three or four men who had thought that Maris was a witch, and applauded the nervous Dr. Crane for putting up with her for such a long time. He at least had a schedule now. This way, he didn't feel like such a pathetic waste of space. And his cashflow was starting up again, which was very good news. In a couple of months he would have enough saved to move out of the Shangri-La and into a place with a bit more class... The Montana, Frasier called it. He said it had a very good reputation, and that Niles would feel right at home.

A few months after he moved in there, he would have enough for another Mercedes. Yes, Life was beginning to pick up again...

Or so it seemed.

The truth was, no matter how hard Niles tried to be happy, to forget about Daphne and move on with his life, to be excited that his practice was being accepted once again... But he couldn't. He was his usual self on the outside, but on the inside... On the inside he was just a euphemism for Dilusional Moron.

He had tried explaining this to both Frasier and Dad, but neither seemed to comprehend it. Frasier probably had trouble because Lilith had been incapable of loving him back, anyway, and Dad... Dad had probably taken the bold sort of action he had advised to his youngest son. 

Niles couldn't do that. And he needed someone who could need him back.

He thought about all this as he stood outside Frasier's door, waiting to be let inside. The only reason he had agreed to come over at all was that his brother had assured him Daphne was out of the house. That did relieve him, but it also made him rather sad. Apart from the heartache and the general embarrassment, he did love seeing her and speaking with her. 

The door opened. Frasier stood there with an interesting expression on his face, and Niles would have questioned it if he had time. But his brother yanked him inside faster than a person could draw a breath, and shut the door with a snap behind him.

"Niles," Frasier said. "Thank _God_ you're here..."

"Er... yes?" Niles said, feeling more than a little confused.

"Niles," his brother said again. "Well... Um. It turns out that Dad and I had some previous plans we forgot about that you could not possibly join in on... and so... well... We'll be leaving you here to watch the house until Daphne gets back."

He raised an eyebrow. "Frasier," he said. "What on earth are you up to?"

"...Nothing!" Frasier said, smiling nervously. "Er... Dad's out in the car. I'd better be going."

The door closed.

And Daphne entered from her room. 

"Oh," she said, smiling. "Good evening, Dr. Crane. What're you doing here?"

That's what I'd like to know...

"I'm... not exactly sure," he said. "Frasier called and asked me to come over, and then left the moment I got here..."

_Tell her, and kiss her hard on the mouth..._

That was odd. He'd never thought anything remotely like that before... Alright, he had, but never with the same exact wording. His father's advice came pouring into his headl, although he tried very hard to keep it out. 

_Tell her,_

No, I'd really rather not. She already knows.

_Tell her,_

She was watching him. Knowing her as well as he did, she could probably see this internal struggle written on his face. She was giving him a very scrutinizing look...

"Daphne," he said, before he could stop himself. _Oh, hell, what am I doing?_

"Yes, Dr. Crane?"

"I... I love you."

He looked up at her very slowly, feeling his pulse start to race. She was still watching him, although his vision was now fogging and he could no longer see the expression on her beautiful face... _This is the last time I ever take Dad's damned advice!_ he thought angrily.

Then he hit the floor.

_-=-_


	13. A Blow to the Head, an Arrow to the Hear...

**A/N:** Okay, I lied. There's one more chapter after this one, and I am so sorry for the crap I put up as the epilogue last time... I went back and read it yesterday and nearly died of embarrassment... So, here's the REAL chapter thirteen.

_-=-_

_"Did you say "no, this can't happen to me,"   
And did you rush to the phone to call  
Was there a voice unkind in the back of your mind  
Saying maybe you didn't know him at all  
You didn't know him at all, oh, you didn't know"_

Jeff Buckley, Last Goodbye

  


He said it.

This was very peculiar, as when Daphne had first heard the news, she had been terrified of Dr. Crane trying to woo her immediately. She had sat alone in her room for quite some time, being very afraid. 

_I will not love Dr. Crane out of pity,_ she had repeated to herself over and over, until the night swallowed her up and she had fallen asleep. And then she had nightmares that her mantra had not worked, and she and Dr. Crane had been involved. Then they had a horrible argument and Daphne no longer felt comfortable around any members of the Crane family... 

She awoke from those dreams in a trembly sort of fright, terrified that something would happen and she'd never be able to see her family-away-from-family ever again... She felt, on those nights, as openly horrified as Dr. Crane felt when he dreamt she had married some appalingly muscular brute, and the only thing he could do about the whole thing was sit at the bar and drown himself with brandy and tears.

But of course, she didn't know about that.

Daphne watched Dr. Crane fall to the floor with wide eyes, all memories and dreams and visions of him replaying over in her mind until she was sure she wouldn't be able to stand the overload. She stood completely still, sure of what was going on and yet not quite positive. _I will not love him out of sympathy. I will not love him out of sympathy. I will not love him out of sympathy..._

The thing she wasn't realizing, although she didn't know it, was that she didn't love him out of sympathy. She loved him because he was kind, and thoughtful, and had always been willing to listen to her. And for some reason, she didn't care if he had an ulterior motive. He wanted to spend time with her, at least. Which is more than she could say for several other people she had been acquainted with...

She approached him quickly, kneeling down by his head. _Oh, Dr. Crane,_ she thought, sighing. 

He opened his eyes, and there was a very long pause.

"_God_," he whispered.

"Dr. Crane?" Daphne said, looking down into his slightly dilated eyes. "You took quite a fall... Are you alright?"

Another pause, although this one was much longer.

"No, I don't exactly think I... er... What were we talking about?" He looked at her innocently, and blinked.

Oh my God. "Dr. Crane, I think you might need to go to the emergency room."

He chuckled. "First, you might want to tell me where the hell I am. It looks suspiciously like the floor of my house, but I don't know what you'd be doing there. Here. Wherever... You haven't got an aspirin, have you?"

Her eyes widened. "Um... No, I haven't. But get up, please. We need to get you to the hospital..."

She grabbed his arm, and began helping him stand, all the while counting off the immediate signs of a concussion... One of which was lack of coordination. He was leaning on her from the second they got out of the door and into the elevator, his arms slung around her shoulders as though he were one of her drunk brothers. She tried not to notice his warm breath on her face, but that was rather hard... His lips slightly seperated and his eyes halfway closed. 

"Daphne," he said, a few floors before ground level.

"...Yes, Dr. Crane?"

"You smell wonderful."

_-=-_

The ER waiting room was relatively empty, which was something that Daphne had rarely seen before. Usually it was stocked with injured people and their worried families. Usually she could stop to talk to other people, commenting on the weather or the Seahawks. And now... Now, for some strange reason, it was just her and Dr. Crane.

She looked over at him, rubbing his head and his eyes, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. She wished she had a comb. She could fix him up to look appropriately neat and tidy... She knew he'd die if he realized he was out in public looking like some sort of sleep-deprived heathen. 

"Damn this headache," he breathed.

She smiled. It was exactly what she had been expecting him to say.

A nurse entered, looking around the nearly vacant room until she spotted its two occupants. "Niles Crane?" she said. She ended up having to help Daphne carry Dr. Crane into the examining room.

  
There was another long wait before the doctor even entered the examining room. Dr. Crane was now lying on the table, the paper beneath him crunching loudly each time he moved. Daphne was sitting next to him, patting his hand and trying to make small talk. That was hard, as he paused for a very long time before answering anything, and he seemed to be falling victim to a relatively short attention span. And every once in a while, he seemed to be on an incredibly wild emotional rollercoaster...

He was crying when the doctor finally came in. 

Ten minutes later, Daphne and Dr. Crane walked -- or, in Dr. Crane's case, staggered -- out to the car with a prescription for painkillers and an appointment for concussion-related physical therapy. She looked at him from the drivers seat of her car, his eyes still unfocused and frustration written on his face.

There were times she was glad that the elder Dr. Crane and his father weren't at home.

_-=-_


	14. The End of the Beginning

**A/N:** Sorry for the bedroom mistake... I haven't seen nearly as many episodes as I would like, and I thank everyone who reviewed with the news that Niles had one of those crappy, in-closet beds. :o) I added quite a bit, thanks to Rover, who gave me great ideas for even more tension.

_-=-_

_"You can't resist her   
She's in your bones   
She is your marrow   
And your ride home _

You can't avoid her  
She's in the air   
In between molecules  
Of Oxygen and Carbon dioxide"

Weezer, Only in Dreams

  


It had been decided that Niles would not be able to stay with his family. Although Frasier was at work -- and several other places -- during the day, Dad was home, and watched all those blasted sports shows from dawn until dusk. Niles, in his condition, couldn't handle the noise and the confused shouts of the gruff football players coming from the television. 

At first, this had posed a problem: There was a need for someone to make sure the younger Dr. Crane took his medicine, remembered to get to his daily physical therapy, didn't stand up and fall victim to a dizzy spell... Of course, Frasier was at work all day, and Dad couldn't possibly get over to Niles's. That left one person, and that one person volunteered much before anyone else realized there would be a problem:

"I could go look after Dr. Crane," Daphne had said, fully enthusiastic. "I can leave him for a while each day so that Mr. Crane can still get his excersizes done, and when he's healed I'll move right back over here." Sweet, caring, beautifully attentive Daphne. Always volunteering, assisting... 

And that had been that.

Quite frankly, Niles would have been openly giddy were it not for the near-constant nausea that plagued him. And coupling _that_ with his dastardly headache... It was no way to inspire happiness. But he felt as light as air when he watched her carry a duffel bag, pillow, and blanket into his house. Cheerfully glancing about and brushing her hair from her face. Even the dreary surroundings of his Shangri-La apartment were brightened by Daphne Moon's exquisite beauty.

"Well," she said. "Where should I put my things?"

He hadn't thought of that. The obvious choice, of course, was to give her full reign of the bathroom, and let her sleep in the bed. Firstly, because she was a lady. Secondly, because she was Daphne, and deserved the best anyone could give her. And thirdly, because Niles would rest easier with the knowledge that she had once been to the place where he always dreamed of her... But she might find that a bit improper, maybe even shocking. She might just insist that he return to the majority of the Crane family's residence, and put up with the sports and the screaming fans and Frasier's unbelievably self-absorbed ways... 

"You can put your clothes in the bathroom," he said, his eye twitching. "And that closet over there houses the bed..."

She raised an eyebrow, looking over at the hideous closet doors. "Dr. Crane..." she said, "I don't think I could sleep knowing you were confined to the sofa,"

"Confined? Heavens, no!" he said. "If I feel too crowded, I can always shift camp to... the floor,"

Daphne pressed her lips together, seriously considering the situation. "Have you ever slept on the floor?" she asked, her tone skeptical. "You don't strike me as the type..."

"Well... Yes, I have. And not only have I slept there, but I lived there... once." Although she didn't know it, Niles was referring to the time he heard his mother discussing the possibility that Shakespeare's plays had been written by Francis Bacon. And the floor had been the area under the piano.

"If you say so, Dr. Crane..."

So she took the bed. However, the two of them weren't sure if that turned out to be a positive or a negative thing. Daphne was, for the most part, very comfortable with sleeping in the bed. It wasn't particularly lovely, but it was made better by the fact that Dr. Crane was willing to give up his own comfort. If she went home to visit, she was made to stay with Billy, and they alternated between the bed and the ancient pink armchair...

But on the downside, she wasn't sure Dr. Crane could sleep. She could hear him muttering things under his breath, tossing and turning, counting sheep... 

Niles, meanwhile, was having trouble sleeping because of Daphne. She was barely six -- possibly seven -- feet away from him. Sleeping. In his bed. And he was dangerously close to having another panic attack... he could feel his lungs preparing themselves for the onslaught of oxygen... He could hear her breathing. Soft and level. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale... She rolled over, and in the small amount of light that came in through the window, he could see her face from the corner of his eye. 

Where the hell is a paper bag when you really need one?

She opened her eyes, staring right at him. "Dr. Crane," she whispered.

"Hmm?" Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. _I'm going to die..._

"Are you having trouble sleeping?" She sat up, the stream of light falling across her eyes and nothing more.

He laughed, although it sounded more like a nervous chuckle than a carefree titter. "Er... No. In fact... I'm just on my way to Dreamland now."

Lying was not his forte.

She got out of bed and turned on a lamp, looking down at him with a small frown on her face. "You're all red, Dr. Crane." she said. "I think you might have a fever..."

Daphne sat down on the side of the sofa and pressed a hand to Niles's forehead. Then she pressed two fingers to his throat, feeling his pulse. _Inhale... Exhale... Inhale... Exhale..._

"My goodness," she said. "You're heart's racing, Dr. Crane. I think you might need to calm down a bit..."

And so, Daphne had offered to give him a short massage -- for relaxations sake. People can't very well get to sleep when they're tense and ill at ease, she had said. That was the problem with America: Everyone got worked up over everything, and then tried to sleep it off. They couldn't just _drink_ it off, they had to try and sleep, and then their lack of sleep made them angry, and then there were angry drivers, angry door-to-door salesmen, and angry old people -- the last being the most dangerous, of course. Niles agreed completely, even though he really had no idea of what point she was trying to make. All that mattered, he reasoned, was that she was sitting behind him, her hands rubbing his shoulders as he listened to her intruiging views on the world today. 

If anyone ever had a talk show, it should be Daphne. And he told her so.

She laughed and said: "You know, Dr. Crane, I really don't know where I'd be without you."

And vice versa...

"...You've always been willing to listen to me. And the hell with your reasons, at least you cared,"

How could I not?

"Made me feel important," 

My God, you _are_ important. I'm quite sure I'd die without you...

"...Loved me." Her hands stopped working their magic. There was an eternity of silence, punctuated only by the breathing of the two people in the room. "I'm not just something one can have fun with, and then leave," she whispered. "Not to you, at least. I don't think you know how important that is to me..."

"Daphne," he replied, the sound of her name sending shivers down his spine. "I wouldn't look at you if you asked me not to,"

Her forehead hit the back of his shoulder with a small thud, and he could feel her face being pressed against him. He wanted to turn and put his arms around her, as he had done so many times before. He wanted to kiss her hair and murmur how much he loved her... But he would wait. He would, _could_ wait until she asked him to. 

After a few moments, she sat upright, and placed her hands back on his shoulders, as if to restart the massage. But she didn't. Instead, she petitioned: "Please turn around, Dr. Crane..."

He did so immediately, switching positions so quickly that he got dizzy again. But he steadied himself... He could wait to be sick after Daphne had left. She looked at him with a small smile on her face. 

More silence.

"You know," he began, feeling slightly awkward with all this nothing echoing in his ears. "There's a movie I saw once that I think you might enjoy... It was called... Well, I can't really remember what it was called, but it had a beautiful plot. Um. Let's see... It was French. And it had that fellow... The one with the rather large nose... It was about --"

"Oh, for God's sake, Dr. Crane," she said, and kissed him. 

Niles was thrown into a state of complete euphoria, his brain tingling and his lips being pressed against Daphne's. He was sure his heart would stop out of exhaustion, as it was furiously pounding in his somewhat thin chest. The only thought in his head, however, was that this was surely the best way for ones heart to stop. Being kissed freely by the one and only woman he loved.

She pulled back very slowly, drawing a deep breath. He looked her in the eye, and for a moment they just sat there, unsure of what to say. She straightened her blouse. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Well," he said, the shock of the event having worn down for a splitsecond. "I think you can call me 'Niles' now..."

_-=-_


End file.
